


Allhallowtide

by lirin



Category: Oxford Time Travel Universe - Connie Willis
Genre: Christian Holidays, Extra Treat, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 15:16:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12560260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lirin/pseuds/lirin
Summary: A time to remember loved ones who have come before us—even those who have yet to be born.





	Allhallowtide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blueteak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueteak/gifts).



> Thanks to drayton for betaing.

Mother and Father had never been very religious. They were the sort of Christians who went to church on Christmas and Easter, and maybe on a few other Sundays but only if they happened to feel like it. Merope had followed in their footsteps; she had had no reason not to. Until she went on assignment, the only time she’d been to church more than once in a month was when her Twentieth Century Religion professor had dragged the class on field trips to what seemed like every cathedral and village church he could think of.

Coming from that background, Merope found it a bit of an adjustment to be engaged to marry a vicar. Not that she regretted it in any way; it was just a lot to get used to. She wasn’t familiar with any of the expectations for a vicar’s wife. And there were so many feasts and holy days she’d never even heard of!

“Allhallowtide is the week before the wedding,” Mr. Goode—Ezra—told her one evening, over tea.

“Allhallowtide?”

“All Hallows Eve, All Saints Day, and All Souls Day. A time to commemorate the dead who have come before us.” He picked up the teapot to pour himself another cup. “My family used to go to London every year around that time; on All Saints when we could, or anytime at the beginning of November when we couldn’t. We would go to Highgate Cemetery and put flowers on my grandparents’ graves. I haven’t been able to make the journey since November of ‘39, due to the war and all. But I would dearly like to go now that things are getting back to normal.”

She hummed acknowledgement and took the teapot when he handed it to her.

“Actually,” he continued, “I thought we might make the tradition our own. Make a day of it. You and Alf and Binnie are going to be my family now, you know. They could take flowers for their mother—if they wanted, of course. I know she doesn’t have a grave, but they could lay them at their old house, or perhaps they could select a flower-less grave at the cemetery to honor in lieu. And you could—well, I don’t really know. Is your family from anywhere around here?”

She took a sip of tea, to hide her racing thoughts. “I don’t...have any family to speak of,” she said quietly, without looking at him. It wasn’t a lie, really. Who was there, any more, whom she could tell about her family?

“Oh, Eileen, I’m so sorry,” Ezra said. He set his tea down and put his arm about her shoulders. “I was being thoughtless,” he said. “I suppose this wouldn’t be a very good family tradition for us after all, if only one of the four of us even has a specific grave to visit. My parents can visit my grandparents’ graves, and that will be enough for them. We’ll make our own, new, traditions instead.” 

He took a bite of biscuit, and they sat for a few moments in silence. Eileen stared at her hands. If only his treasured tradition would have been something she could have gone along with. She didn’t want him to have to give up something he cared about for her. And beyond that, she wished there were some way that she could take him to the graves of those she had lost. A place where they could remember their loved ones together. But loved ones not yet born could have no such memorial, and their loss seemed somehow the deeper for it.

“You know,” Ezra added, after a minute. “If you ever—you don’t have to, I love you no matter what—but if you ever want to talk about your family and where you came from, you know I’ll listen, and it won’t change what I think of you. Nothing could.”

“Not today,” Eileen whispered. She wrung her hands together. “Not tomorrow. But I will tell you, someday.” She tipped her head up and looked into his eyes. He smiled at her, and she was able to bring herself to smile back. “But it doesn’t matter,” she said, “because now we’re going to have our own new family.”

“With our own new traditions,” Ezra said. He clinked his teacup against hers. “I can’t wait.”

“Neither can I,” Eileen said.


End file.
